Making art

Art is a very pleasant yet tiring work. Demanding and heavy, just like sculpture. I have a great number of ideas which I don’t know if I’ll be able to carry out, and every idea brings another one along. Like light at dusk: the more it dims, the brighter it glimmers and the more intense the colours get. Less light, but more charm.

As an architect, it often occurred to me in the middle of a certain project, when everything was planned and seemed to work out, that I had to change it. I then learned as consolation that a good architect is the one who can make poetry out of mistakes. Such is sculpture. Sometimes I create it in a day, but I think of it for months. I draw, I try, and try again. Titian would finish a painting, then he would put it aside for a long time only to look at it again much later and criticise it. I think this is the way to go; exercising art not to please, but to express emotions and concepts.

For many years, my work as architect has limited the time I could dedicate to my greatest passion: sculpture. In those years, I recall considering the possibility, once reached the end of my life, to bury my sculptures in a large pit, making them disappear onto Mother Earth’s womb.

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